


The Lady of Essex

by portabello_road



Category: Nancy Drew (Video Games), Nancy Drew - Fandom, Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Super Mysteries - Franklin W. Dixon & Carolyn Keene
Genre: Hardy Boys, MID, MID spoilers, mid re-write, nancy drew - Freeform, or mid my spin on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22115497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portabello_road/pseuds/portabello_road
Summary: Nancy Drew hung up her mystery-solving spurs five years ago after a traumatic event. But when a "quick trip" to Austria takes an unexpected turn, and an old acquaintance asks her for her help, she's thrown back into the game.Meanwhile, Frank and Joe Hardy are on the hunt for a thief who's stolen a historic ship's figurehead, and the more they uncover, the more they realize the one thing they need to solve the case is an old friend who's closer than they realize.Hey there Nancy Drew clue crew! I wanted to take the basic premise/characters of MID and give it my own spin. Some elements from the game will be present here (mild spoiler warning).
Relationships: Nancy Drew & Joe Hardy, Nancy Drew & Ned Nickerson, Nancy Drew/Frank Hardy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Nancy Drew: Moosham Castle, Austria

“Wow,” Nancy said quietly to herself, “It’s even more beautiful than the pictures.”

Moosham Castle was a white stone castle in the middle of the forests of Austria. It was originally built over eight-hundred years ago on the foundations of a Roman fortress, but over time grew into a series of towers and high walls hidden among the mountains and hills. It was early October, and the trees were beginning to turn from vivid greens to vibrant reds, oranges, and golds. A gentle wind blew through her red hair, and Nancy took a deep breath in. The air smelled of pine, dirt, and stone, and she watched a flock of birds flew overhead past one of the towers.

“Nancy! Nancy Drew?” a woman called from the castle entrance. Nancy looked to see a middle-aged woman standing on the other side of a wooden bridge. She was wearing a thick, green sweater and a knee-length pencil, black skirt with tights and boots. A thick pair of reading glasses hung down across her chest. Nancy waved her arm and quickly walked over to reach her.

“You must be Dr. Elizabeth Hirst,” Nancy stretched an arm out, “It’s wonderful to meet you finally. I appreciate you coming in on a Monday; I know you’re normally closed to visitors.”

Elizabeth took Nancy’s hand and gave it a gentle shake. Nancy studied her face for a moment to see that she was around her early sixties, with blonde-white hair tied back in a neat braid. Elizabeth lifted her glasses to get a better look at Nancy and smiled brightly.

“Oh my, and look at you,” she replied cheerfully, “You’re the spitting image of your mother, but with Carson’s eyes, I see.”

“You knew my mother?” Nancy asked curiously as the two entered the castle. Their steps echoed against the stone walls.

“I did, back when she was a reporter,” Elizabeth explained, “I met her a few times, and she consulted me for historical research. And now you and your father are asking for my help -- I suppose it’s a trait all Drew’s share.”

As the two stood in the middle of the courtyard, Nancy looked up and around. There were only a few doors leading into the castle, and most of the windows were at least thirty feet up off the ground. Wooden scaffolding and stairs lined some of the walls, and a crow cawed from above.

“Well, I’m thankful for any help you can give. My father asked me to find The Book of Apologies for an old friend of his. It sounds like you two thought it would be here,” Nancy explained, “I did some research on Moosham before I came; it sounds like it has an interesting history.”

“That’s the kind version of it,” Elizabeth smiled, and led Nancy toward one of the doors, “We’re most famous for the Salzburg Witch Trials that occurred here between 1675 and 1690. One-hundred and thirty-nine people were executed here and the nearby village. It fell into disrepair not long after that, but the castle was restored. We’re mostly a tourist destination with a top-notch art gallery.”

“If I have some time, I’d love to see it,” Nancy said, “I’ve only had a few chances to really explore and appreciate Austria so far.”

“Yes, Carson’s mentioned you’ve been very busy,” Elizabeth smiled, “You just graduated from college in May, right?”

Nancy nodded, “I did. I’ve been splitting my time between researching cases for my father’s law firm and writing for a few newspapers and journals.”

“No new mysteries?” Elizabeth pried, “I remember reading about all your adventures from when you were younger.”

Nancy’s posture shifted, and she forced a smile, “No, I haven’t done that in … five years now. Priorities changed, you know?” Nancy’s hand drifted to a locket around her neck, and she gently rubbed it with her thumb.

Elizabeth nodded, “Of course, and graduating from college is very admirable. It takes a lot of hard work. Come on, let me show you Judge Sewall’s room.”

Elizabeth opened the door to reveal a cramped corridor and a narrow set of stairs. Nancy rubbed her arms as the air temperature dropped at least ten degrees. There were no windows, fireplaces, or candelabras anywhere. As Elizabeth climbed the stairs, she continued talking.

“The castle served as a prison during the trials and this area has the most reported ‘hauntings’ if you believe in that sort of thing,” Elizabeth tried to laugh it off, but Nancy heard her voice quiver. 

“In my experience, there’s always a logical explanation behind those events,” Nancy said with confidence. Elizabeth stopped at the top of the stairs, unlocked a door with a large iron key, and gestured for Nancy to go in.

It was a small room, probably less than eight feet in each direction. Most of the furniture was covered in sheets from what Nancy could tell. There was no light in the room, and Nancy could barely make out a few inches in front of her. The sound of Elizabeth heading back down made Nancy turn around.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Nancy asked, “It’s so… warm and inviting in here.”

Elizabeth laughed humorlessly, “No, no, no. I have work to do on the other side of the castle. My office is the red door down in the courtyard. You should be all set to dive in: all of Judge Samuel Sewall’s effects are in this room. If you manage to find anything about the Book of Apologies, it’d probably be here.”

“The Judge wrote the book, right?” Nancy asked through the door.

“Yes, he did. He was one of the few judges at the Salem trials to regret his role in it. Supposedly, he spent the remainder of his life learning and collecting information on people falsely accused of witchcraft, and compiling them into a book as a form of repentance. We never found it, though,” Elizabeth said with a nervous tone in her voice. Nancy was picking up on that she didn’t want to be here longer than necessary.

“Well, I’ll do my best to find it, and come find you if I do,” Nancy called out to her, and Elizabeth said a quick good-bye and scurried down the steps. Nancy chuckled to herself. Witches, ghosts, and magic? None of that was real.

“All right, Drew,” she said to herself, “Let’s get this over with.”

Nancy carefully crossed the room to open the only window. She squinted as the light blinded her, but when her eyes adjusted, Nancy smiled at the beautiful view. She looked around to see stacks of letters, books, and scraps of paper. The Judge wrote several quotes from the Bible down, and they all had one theme in common: forgiveness. 

_ Too little, too late _ , Nancy thought to herself.

Nancy glanced at a copy of The Hammer of Witches, the “how-to” book on finding, persecuting, and executing witches. Nancy shuddered at the thought of how many men, women, and children were killed in the hysteria. Nancy shook her head to refocus. Aside from a few chairs, there wasn’t much in the room. She remembered that given his Puritan background, that Judge Sewall and his contemporaries lived pious lives without extravagance. The objects they valued the most were the ones they could use day-to-day.

Nancy gripped a sheet and pulled, kicking up dust and cobwebs. The Judge’s desk was underneath, and she gasped at the craftsmanship. It was a hand-carved postman style desk, with a relief carved in the back. A group of angels holding different objects was carved into the red-oak, and she hummed in thought. The Judge wouldn’t just spare the time and work to make this relief if it wasn’t necessary.

An old letter was folded in half and sitting on the desk in plain view. Nancy whipped her hands on her jeans and carefully unfolded the letter. It was addressed to Abigail Hathorne Woodley, and in it, the Judge explained how he was racked with guilt, and mentioned a “Light” that would leave to lead his salvation. He asked for her forgiveness and God’s. Nancy looked at the desk again and noticed the central figure was carrying a lantern. 

_ It can’t be that easy _ , Nancy thought to herself. She smirked as she gently pressed the lantern, and a click echoed in the room. 

_ It was that easy. _

A compartment on the front of the desk opened up to reveal a keyhole. Nancy jiggled it a little, but it wouldn’t budge. If there was a key, it was probably long gone. Or maybe, she thought, it was designed to be part of the desk. Nancy crouched down to inspect the legs underneath the main table, and for the fun of it pressed the wooden relief to see if there was a second trigger. After a few minutes of no luck, she stood back up and took a step back. She eyed the desk from a distance, hoping to see something she missed.

On the desk’s left side were a bunch of scratch marks, like a drawer opening and closing too many times against the wood. Nancy poked and prodded the area, hoping for something to happen. Sure enough, a key slid out with another click. A smile spread across Nancy’s face, and that excited feeling bloomed in her chest. 

Nancy carefully put the key into its lock, and as it turned, a drawer opened up to her. The drawer was divided in two, with the left side covered by a panel, and the right showing a hand-made labyrinth puzzle. The object was to move a small, magnetic ball from one side to the other without stopping. Nancy caught on what to do, and within moments she solved it.

The left panel opened up, and inside was a book with an ornate lock on the front. The lock was inscribed with the initials “AW,” and Nancy gasped.

“The Book of Apologies! It’s gotta be,” Nancy moved her hands to grab it, but when she noticed her palms were covered in dust, she knew that touching it without Dr. Hirst around to handle it properly would be a huge mistake. Instead, Nancy decided to find her and bring her back so they could document the book’s discovery.

She left the room and hurried down the stairs to the courtyard. The red door to Elizabeth’s office was propped open, and Nancy jogged across the yard and called out to her.

“Elizabeth! Dr. Hirst! I found the Book, but I wanted you to--”

Nancy entered the small office to discover Elizabeth knocked out and on the ground face-first. 

“Elizabeth!” Nancy gasped. She looked around the room to see a few objects fell to the ground around Elizabeth. The doctor was ambushed, but Nancy didn’t see or hear anyone nearby.

As Nancy rushed to her side, Elizabeth stirred.

“Ohh… my head,” she groaned, “Nancy? Where are they? What happened?”

“I’m not sure, but let’s get you sitting up, okay?” Nancy calmly ordered, but her heart was pounding in her chest and drumming in her ears.

As Nancy helped Elizabeth sit up, her phone began to ring. Nancy wanted to call the authorities right away, but as she glanced down to the screen, her curiosity caught her off guard.

“What the--?” Nancy said to herself as she saw who was calling. She pressed a button to pick it up.

“Deidre?” Nancy stood up, leaving the office to stand in the yard, trying to look for the attacker. She jogged back to the other side of the yard.

“Hi, Nancy. Been a long time,” Deidre continued, “Look, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I’m in the middle of something big and --”

Nancy reached the foot of the staircase and could hear the sound of someone moving around inside the Judge’s room.

“Deidre, now’s not a good time, but I’ll call you back,” Nancy whispered.

“Wait! Don’t hang up on--” Deidre called out, but Nancy ended the call and pocketed her phone.

Without making a sound, Nancy made it up the stairs and to the door that led to the Judge’s room. She could hear someone breathing inside, and without thinking it through, Nancy pivoted to block the entrance. The attacker was wearing all black, and they were holding the Book of Apologies.

“Hey!” she shouted.

The attacker was spooked, and before Nancy could take a step, they threw a pellet to the ground that released a blue smoke. Nancy violently coughed and hunched over, and the attacker shoved her to the ground as they passed her.

“Get back here!” Nancy bellowed and followed them down the stairs and into the courtyard. As Nancy looked around to see where they went next, she could hear the sound of footsteps hitting wood planks.

“The bridge!” Nancy sprinted to the entrance and could see the thief jumping off the bridge and into the woods below.

“Stop!” Nancy shouted again, but they were running deep into the thicket. With a deep breath, Nancy jumped off the bridge and landed on the ground hard. She ignored the pain shooting up from her ankles and ran through the woods. 

_ This is ridiculous, Drew, _ she chastised herself,  _ The thief already attacked Elizabeth. What do you think they’ll do to you? _

Before she could answer her question, the forest opened up to a clearing, with the thief hunched over. They were catching their breath, and Nancy could spot the Book tucked under their arm.

Nancy crouched down and studied the ground in front of her. There were no twigs or dead leaves in front of her, just wet grass. If she moved carefully, she wouldn’t make a sound.

_ Easy _ , Nancy said to herself,  _ Just grab the book and run for it. Don’t be stupid. _

When she was only a few yards away, she stretched her arm out, prepared to grab the Book and make a run for it. Suddenly, Nancy’s phone buzzed again. The thief turned enough to register the sound, but not enough for Nancy to see their face.

“Really?” Nancy groaned, and the thief threw another smoke bomb. Nancy coughed and waved the air in front of her. The thief was gone, and the woods were so dense. Nancy knew she had zero chance of catching up with them. The Book of Apologies was gone.

“Damn,” she whispered. The thief did drop a few things when they escaped. Nancy crouched down to take a look. There was a small, metal canister with blue dust on the rim. The smoke-bomb shell looked home-made. A little, metal key was also on the ground. Nancy carefully picked it up.

“A.W.,” she whispered, “Abigail Woodley, maybe?”

The “A.W” initials were on the Book too, which likely meant that this key was for the Book. Nancy grinned. The thief didn’t have enough time to unlock it, which meant that they were at a stalemate for now. Nancy put the key in her jacket pocket as she picked up the last item the thief dropped. It was a first-class airplane ticket from Boston to Austria, and even though it was torn, “Round Trip” was written at the top.

Nancy tapped the ticket against her palm, thinking. The thief knew the Book was here, and Boston was only about twenty miles south of Salem. It was a guess, but something in Nancy’s gut told her that the thief was heading back to Salem. 

Nancy’s phone buzzed again, and Nancy chuckled to see who it was.

“Yes, Diedre,” Nancy said, “What is it?”

“You know where I am right now?” she asked with a snippy tone, “Salem.”

“Really?” Nancy replied. She couldn’t believe the coincidence.

“Yeah. My cousin got into some trouble here. I thought I could help her, but the situation is a lot more complicated than I realized. And I was wondering if…” Diedre’s voice trailed off, but Nancy understood where she was going.

“You want my help?” she asked, surprised.

“Ugh yes,” Deidre relented, “I’m desperate, and you’re my last, my hope. I know you dropped casework after -- well, you know.”

Nancy swallowed and touched the locket. She didn’t say anything. After a few moments of quiet, Deidre sighed and continued talking.

“Anyways. The case I’m working on is… well, it’s a family thing,” Deidre voice was sounding almost defensive, which fueled Nancy’s curiosity more, “It’s really personal to me, and I need someone who can look at things objectively. No attachment and no tact. So I thought of you.”

Nancy laughed at the last comment, and even Deidre chuckled.

“Look, I know this a huge favor to ask, but I honestly think you’re the best person for it so… what do you think?”

“Well, I’m actually working a  _ small _ case right now, and the next step is Boston,” Nancy replied warmly, “And if my hunch is right, it’s connected to Salem too.”

“Really?” Deidre asked, surprised, “I… honestly thought I was going to have to convince you to come. Bribe you even.”

“No need -- I’d love to,” Nancy chimed, “As a consultant, of course. It sounds like you’re already deep in this, and my priority is locating a lost book. It’s a bit of a long story, but I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“Ugh, I forgot how your positivity could be so disgusting,” Deidre replied in her snottish tone that Nancy almost found charming, “This might be the worst idea I ever had. I’ll pick you up at Logan. Text me you’re flight number.”

“Bye, Deidre,” Nancy said, and she pocketed her phone. Police sirens were approaching the castle, and Nancy held her locket again, rubbing her thumb on the worn design. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“It’ll be a quick one, okay?” Nancy whispered to herself, “One last time, I promise.”


	2. The Hardy's: Long Wharf, Boston, MA

Frank Hardy sat on a bench waiting for Joe to come back with the morning coffee. It was just before seven AM, and the two brothers promised to meet their new client by the ferry on his way to teach a class across town. Frank sat on a bench at the end of the Long Wharf in Boston, letting his gaze wander from movement to movement. The sun was shining bright on the waters in front of him, casting off a warming glow against the cool breeze.

Frank yawned and rubbed his eyelids. Typically between him and Joe, he was a morning person, and Joe was the night owl. But lately, Frank was burning the midnight oil to get his business plan ready. Working _gratus_ on cases was getting old, and the brothers decided to open their detective agency. It wouldn’t change things that much, just make things more official. Everything was almost ready to launch, except for one last piece of the puzzle.

Frank ran a hand through his black hair, giving it a gentle shake with his fingers. He took a deep breath in, and turned away from the water so he could look around. Boston’s Long Wharf was particularly beautiful this time of day: the atmosphere of the people walking around starting their day was mellow and calm. Most shops weren’t open yet, and there was a stillness to the ordinarily busy port that was strange, but calming. All the buildings on the marina were in the Federal colonial style, with brick and cobblestone walkways all around. Sailboats, yachts, and ferries docked closeby, and Frank watched the boats bob, and the crewmen clean the decks. 

Commuters who took the ferry busted off the gangways, and Frank loved to observe people see how fast he could remember basic descriptions. Seagulls squawked and flew in tight circles over his head, and in the distance, he could hear barking. The Aquarium was just a short walk around the corner, and Frank remembered that Joe made him swear that they could visit the seals that were kept in a tank just outside the entrance.

“Frank!” Joe shouted, and Frank spotted his brother approaching with his coffee in his left hand, and a massive, ridiculous-looking iced drink in his right. A newspaper was tucked in his armpit, and he squirmed to adjust it as he handed Frank his coffee.

“All right, one black dark-roast coffee for you,” Joe chirped, “And for me --”

“Let me guess,” Frank smiled, staring at Joe’s coffee, “A half-caf mocha-cappa-frappuccino with three pumps of hazelnut and caramel whip on top?”

“ _ Two _ pumps of hazelnut,” Joe retorted, “I’m trying to lose weight.” Joe took a long slurp, and Frank laughed.

“It’s not going anywhere,” Frank chuckled.

“Excuse me, are you Frank and Joe Hardy?” 

The Hardy’s turned to see a middle-aged man approaching them. He was dressed in a tweed jacket and jeans, with a bright purple scarf around his neck and a blue turtleneck underneath. He wore round, wireframe glasses, and his grey hair was tied into a man-bun. Not precisely what Frank pictured when Joe told him they were meeting a tenured Professor from Harvard, but they waved to him.

“You must be Professor Arnold Holmes,” Joe put down his drink on the bench to shake his hand, “I’m Joe Hardy, and this is my brother Frank.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Professor Holmes said a little out of breath, “Thank you for meeting me here so early. I take the ferry into the city every morning, and I thought it’d be a fitting place, considering.”

“I read up on your project in the Globe,” Joe opened up to the story spread, “It sounds like you’ve hit every brick wall trying to get this off the ground.”

Professor Holmes nodded, “Trust me, that article barely scratches the surface.”

The three men began to walk along the pier, and Frank and Joe listened to Professor Holmes.

“It took me ten years of research, grant proposals, and planning to acquire  _The Lady of Essex._ A nd not two days after we dock her into the harbor, she’s vandalized,” the Professor gestured to a 17th-century merchant vessel docked closeby. Police tape and two uniformed officers were standing guard, and the Hardy’s took a moment to scan the ship. Crates and planks of wood were torn and scattered, and where the figurehead of the boat should be was covered in hack marks and cuts.

“This happened last week, right?” Joe asked.

“Yes, around three in the morning last Monday. The cameras managed to pick up at least one figure moving on the ship, but it was too dark and the video too poor to make out much else. I spoke with the detectives; you’re free to examine the scene. As long as you don’t break anything, of course,” Professor Holmes explained.

“Was anything stolen?” Frank asked.

“You see, that’s why I called you,” Professor Holmes replied as he reached for his messenger bag “The ship’s figurehead is missing, that we know. It was a carving of a wooden lady.” The professor pulled out a three-ring binder for Frank and a few reference books for Joe. Frank took flipped through the pages to find copies of the Professor’s research, contacts, and a photograph of the figurehead. It was worn from the sea, but Frank could tell it was once a beautiful carving decorated with long, flowing hair and an ornate necklace or dress collar.

“She’s the ship’s namesake, and a beautiful piece of craftsmanship,” Professor Holmes smiled sadly, “The other spot of trouble is, we planned on doing a full inventory Monday morning but found the ship like this instead.  _ The Lady  _ used to belong to a tiny maritime museum in Salem. The last thorough inspection with a detailed list of what’s on the ship and what needs restoration was done eight years ago.”

“Eight?!” Joe asked. The Professor nodded grimly.

“I don’t blame them. When I was first out of school, I worked at a small museum. The back-log went years,” Holmes sighed, “Boston PD will examine the case from the sabotage angle, but I need you two to find the figurehead and any other artifacts that may have been stolen.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Joe said, “Do you have any idea who’d want to steal it?”

“Well,” the Professor rolled his eyes, smiling, “The fisherman who work the pier told me that they saw a ‘ghostly woman’ on the deck. Colonial style dress, white bonnet, singing herself the whole nine yards.”

“They saw a  _ ghost _ ?” Joe asked loudly, making the police officers down on the ship turn their heads.

“What my brother means is,” Frank interjected, “That we’ll explore this from every angle. In our experience, though, the simplest motive is usually the correct one.”

“Indeed,” the Professor nodded but smiled at Joe’s enthusiasm, “Figureheads from ships can be worth a great deal of money. And  _ The Lady  _ had her share of adventures. I wrote a few names of some, well, ‘shady’ sellers and buyers that I’m aware of. You may want to check in with them.” 

The Professor took a deep breath and looked back at the ship, “It would be terrible if we can’t recover everything that was taken.”

Frank nodded, closing the binder, “We won’t let you down, sir.”

“Professor Holmes is fine, son,” he took Frank’s hand and shook it firmly, “And I know you’ll do everything you can. Nancy spoke highly of you both.”

“Nance?” Frank asked, his voice excited. Joe smirked.

“Nancy Drew, yes,” the Professor continued looking a little reluctant to admit it, “To be honest, she was my first pick for this.”

“Well, that’s no surprise,” Joe rolled with the comment, “She is easier on the eyes than my gruesome older brother.” Frank threw Joe a dirty look that lasted half a second, but Holmes saw it.

“Yes, she is, but that’s not why I wanted her,” the Professor laughed, “She helped me on a similar case about seven years ago. It was an antique roadshow; we had a problem with people submitting fakes. Nancy weeded them out and is familiar with craftsmanship from this era.”

“I remember; she called us a few times working it. She is one of the best,” Frank said warmly, “We’re planning on asking her to join our detective agency when she gets back from Scotland.”

Joe was taking a sip of his drink and slurped loudly at Frank’s comment. Frank and Professor Holmes didn’t notice.

“The three of you would make a great team. I know Nancy’s career, of course, and when I spoke to her on the phone last week, she couldn’t sing your praises high enough. Practically knew your CV’s by heart, ” the Professor replied then glanced at his watch, “Oh shoot. I’m sorry to leave you, but I need to get on the T. My cell is in the binder call or text me if you have questions.”

“Will do,” Joe waved, “Have a great day, Professor!”

As the Professor darted away, Frank combed through the binder again, and Joe put the books into their backpack.

“I didn’t know you and Nancy were still talking,” Joe said casually, but he was studying Frank hard for a reaction.

“Just here and there,” Frank replied calmly, but his tone tipped Joe off.

“Liar,” Joe snorted back, “How is she?”

“She’s good,” Frank closed the binder to put it away, “Better, I think.”

“You want to ask her to team up again? I thought she wanted to put mystery-solving behind her,” Joe asked quietly. Frank took a moment to think of the best answer for Joe.

“Solving mysteries is just hard-wired into her. And I hope she’s ready to see that again and keep going. Do you remember those map thieves we busted in January?”

“Sure,” Joe nodded, “It was the first time you and I split up in ages. It was beautiful.”

Frank laughed and lightly punched him in the arm, “Yeah, well, I cracked the case because of her. She was able to use Yale’s library and connections to help me find them. You should have seen her, Joe.”

“You saw her too?” Joe asked, shocked, “Jeez, Frank. You know if this whole agency thing is going to work, you’re gonna have to tell me this kind of stuff.” Joe threw his empty coffee cup in a trash can and took a few steps away from Frank toward the gangway of  _ The Lady. _

“Hey, Joe, come on,” Frank pleaded, gently grabbing Joe’s arm to stop him, “I didn’t tell you because… I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

The two brothers studied each other's faces for a moment, and when he calmed down, Joe nodded and let out a deep sigh.

“I know, Joe. I know her quitting was hard on you,” Frank said quietly, “On all of us. I tried talking to her about it when I saw, but I could tell she wasn’t ready to. Plus, she was a few months away from graduating. That was more important to her at the time.”

“I get it,” Joe nodded again, putting his hands in his pockets, “I do. I just... miss her.”

“I know. Me too,” Frank patted Joe’s shoulder.

“Are we really going to ask her?” Joe skeptically looked at Frank, “I mean, I think it’d be perfect, but after what happened with Ned, do you think she’d be okay with it?”

Joe’s voice trailed off, but Frank knew what he was asking. And the truth was, Frank didn’t know if Nancy would say yes to this. Or if he asked her, it was the most selfish thing he could do to her. When Frank asked for her help last year, it was a massive leap of faith, and he did his best to keep Nancy away from the casework. That lasted all of five seconds before she came up with suspect lists, strategies, and helped Frank conduct stake-outs. The look in her eyes, the warmth in her voice as they solved the case -- it was like Nancy was herself again. Happy, driven, and selfless. 

Still, when the case ended, and they went out to dinner to celebrate, Nancy pulled back and tried to keep their conversations away from the mystery-solving business. Frank tried to pry and get to the heart of why she quit, but she wasn’t ready to reopen those wounds. The two kept in touch, though, sending letters every few weeks and calling each other now and then. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but something in Frank’s gut told him Nancy was ready to come back.

“I think she is, but there’s only one way to find out,” Frank finally replied quietly, “But we should focus on what’s in front of us. Come on. Let’s take a look at  _ The Lady of Essex _ .”

Frank and Joe walked down the gangway toward  _ The Lady of Essex _ to greet the two officers standing guard. One was an older man with a potbelly, the other a much younger woman.

“We saw you with Holmes,” the male officer gave the brothers a look, “You must be the private eyes he hired. Frank and Joe Hardy?”

Frank and Joe pulled out their ID’s to verify. The younger officer leaned in to take a look.

“All right, you check out,” she nodded, “The lead on this case is Detective Irene Jacobs. She couldn’t be here to meet you but told us we could answer any questions you may have. I’m Officer Perri; this is Officer Munroe.” Perri reached into a duffle bag to hand Frank and Joe a set of gloves and booties for their feet. As they put them on, Joe looked up to see if he could spot any surveillance cameras.

“Professor Holmes mentioned that there was a video of the saboteur,” Joe asked, “Would we be able to take a look?”

Perri took her phone out, and after a few moments to load it, she showed Frank and Joe the clip. To say it was “poor quality” was an understatement -- most of the video was in shades of dark gray and completely black, and both brothers had to squint to make out the figure moving on the ship deck. From what they could tell, the mystery figure hopped on the deck on the port side, went below deck for about twenty minutes, then started examining everything on the main floor, like they were looking for something. Suddenly the video grew more pixelated as it tried to capture the movements, but it looked like the thief got angry and started ripping things apart. They stood by the mast for a few more minutes, then dashed across the deck to the bow.

“Any idea what they were doing?” Frank asked, pointing toward the mast, but both officers shook their heads. 

“‘Fraid not. All the lamp posts were conveniently not working when this went down,” Munroe sniffed uninterested, but Perri rolled her eyes.

“They busted a ton of stuff below, then ran around here for another couple of minutes,” she explained, “Crime scene scanned for prints, hair, the whole enchilada but came up with nothing.” 

“Best we can tell, they hopped on the ship from the side, probably used an outboard motorboat to get in and out,” Munroe chimed in, “We looked up footage for the surrounding area before, during, and after the theft, but nothing useful.”

“And, ah, sorry kid,” Perri teased Joe, “We didn’t catch the ghost on tape. If it’s any consolation, the folks who claim saw it aren’t the most reliable of sources.”

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” Joe replied coyly.

“What’s your take on this?” Frank asked the officers.

“You ask me? This is the Izzy Gardner Museum all over again,” Munroe puffed out his chest, “Just some idiot kid trolling and snatching what he thinks is valuable, and making a huge mess of it.”

“What do you think?” Frank asked Perri directly. She took a few moments to reflect, then rested her hands on her hips.

“This feels a little more planned than some ‘idiot kid’ hopping on a boat to cause trouble,” Perri argued, “And if they wanted just to take The Lady, why come on board at all?”

“Good point,” Joe smiled at Perri, “If they were coming here just for her, they wouldn’t waste time wandering around. Something made them decide to take it at the end. We need to figure out why.”

“All right, Joe,” Frank nodded, “You’re the thief. How did you do this?”

Frank and Joe walked to the port side, where the thief climbed up. Munroe rolled his eyes and walked up the gangway as Peri kept an eye on the Hardy’s.

“Munroe’s right, the best way in and out would be an outboard. Cameras wouldn’t be able to see it from down there,” Joe observed.

“Even if it was high tide, that’s gotta be at least a twelve-foot climb up from the water,” Frank noticed, looking over the side.

“It didn’t look like they used a rope or ladder either,” Joe looked for signs of a hook or grappling gear, “They climbed up and over by hand. The thief is probably athletic.”

“Or just got lucky,” Frank offered. Joe did a little hop to mimic the thief getting on the deck.

“All right. I’m on the ship,” Joe began to cross the deck, “And I already know where I’m going: the Captain’s Quarters. Why?” 

Frank pulled out the binder from his backpack and flipped through the pages, “Well, based on the Professor’s notes, it contained the original desk, chair, and a built-in-armoire. Let’s check it out.”

Joe led Frank below deck. The ship was modest and small inside; there was only a short walkway that led to the Captain’s room and a locked door that led down to where the crew would sleep. The thief didn’t touch that section of the ship. Joe leaned down to examine the modern lock placed on the Captain’s door that was discarded on the floor.

“It doesn’t look like the thief forced their way in,” Joe pointed out, “But that kind of lock would be a pretty easy one to pick. Probably could find a Youtube video for that.”

Joe pushed the door open to reveal the Captain’s room. There was a large glass window on the stern with a few broken panes, and overturned chairs and broken crates scattered across the room. The desk and armoire, which were built into the ship, were in a better state, but their drawers were pulled out, and doors left open. Joe went toward the desk while Frank took a look at the armoire.

“Nice carvings,” Joe pointed out. There were angels holding lanterns carved on the back of the desk and the doors to the armoire. Frank let out a “hmmm” in agreement and shined a light inside the armoire. He tapped the back and realized it was hollow. Frank ran a hand on the inside, looking for a hidden switch or trigger to open the secret compartment. After a few minutes of poking and prodding, they came up empty.

“I’ve got a feeling the thief was told by someone smarter to find something in here,” Frank said, “But the thief had no idea how to find it. ”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Joe mumbled. Joe took a few steps back and noticed a strange dust pattern on the floor by the desk. It looked like someone, or something was on the floor going underneath the table. Joe laid down and slid underneath. He looked up and smirked: hidden beneath the desk was an inlaid design of a lantern held by a woman. She looked almost exactly like the missing figurehead.

“Fraaaaank,” Joe called out, and Frank turned around, “Let me know if this does something.”

Joe pushed the carving of the lantern in, and that triggered a panel inside the armoire to slide open. Frank smiled.

“Good job, Joe,” Frank opened the safe to find the Captain’s journal. 

“You think our thief found that?” Joe asked as he hurried out and stood back up.

“Yep,” Frank nodded, “Check this out.”

Frank opened up the journal to show a whole section freshly cut out, “I remember seeing this kind of mark before. When Nance and I were looking at the map thieves, they’d cut pages out of books with an Exacto-blade, just like this.”

Frank handed the book to Joe, who gently turned the pages then gave it back to Frank.

“Why would you only take a few pages, instead of the entire book?” he asked Joe, who took a few moments to consider the question.

“Because the information on those pages was more important to me?” Joe shined a light on the pages to help Frank read.

“It looks like the Captain’s journal. The first entry goes back to 1689…” Frank muttered as he sped-read the entries, “He talks about going back and forth between Boston, Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard, Salem. He mentions the trials starting up and then... it cuts off in December 1691 and starts back up again in Fall 1693.”

Frank took a second to think, “Was our thief interested in the Salem Witch Trials?”

“Okay, okay. Let’s back it up,” Joe walked around the room, “I come on this ship, knowing something is hidden here that I want. I come here, and I manage to find that journal.”

“But you don’t take it with you,” Frank continues the thought, “Because you didn’t come here for this.”

“And once I have what I need from that book, I put it back?” Joe looked at Frank skeptically.

“Why take the time?” Frank wondered.

“The book wasn’t valuable enough to take. Not to me. So I put it back where I found it,” Joe continues to pace, thinking out loud, “Guilty conscious?”

“Could be,” Frank looked back outside, “We should look around the deck some more.”

Frank and Joe climbed back up to the main deck. Munroe was talking to a few tourists up on the pier while Peri stood guard on the deck.

“Excuse me, Officer Peri?” Joe called out, “Would it be too much trouble to look at that video one more time, please?”

She smiled and walked over to hand Joe her phone. He fast-forwarded to where thief reappeared.

“Okay. So we know when the thief came back, they wandered around looking for a few minutes,” Joe pointed and followed the thief with his fingertip until the clip grew too pixelated, “Okay, that’s when they started kicking things around. Then it looks like they stood by the mast for a few minutes. Frank can --”

Frank walked over to look at the mast. A few areas were dusted for prints, but nothing stood out about it.

“Wait, do you see that?” Peri asked stopping the video, “In the thief’s hand, there’s a small light. Watch for it.” Peri replayed the clip and Joe spotted it too; the thief took something out of their pocket that glowed, and brought it to their head.

“Frank, it looks like the thief stopped searching to call someone,” Joe said, “After they hung up, they headed for the bow.”

“Joe,” Frank mimed picking up a phone, “I don’t think our thief was the mastermind behind this. I think someone either paid or coerced them into coming on the ship to find something. And when they got stuck, they called their handler.”

“Then we have two suspects to find,” Joe concluded, “The thief and the mastermind.”

“That answers the who,” Frank walked back over to join Joe and Peri, “But that doesn’t answer the why.”

“Guess Munroe was onto something. Maybe this is an Izzy G. situation all over again. The Professor said that the ship figurehead would be worth the money, right?” Peri asked, “So why wait till the end to grab it?”

“Because the mastermind told them to find this,” Frank showed the journal to Peri, “We found this hidden in the Captain’s Quarters. See here.”

Peri let out a quiet wow, but then quickly ran to her evidence bag, “We’ll need to process this at the crime lab.”

“Mind if we take a few pictures first?” Joe asked sweetly, “Please?”

“Yes, you may,” Peri smiled at Joe, “Only because you’ve been so polite.”

Peri grabbed a clean cloth to lay the book down, and she and Joe carefully went through each page to take pictures. Frank walked to the bow to examine where the thief went next. There was scaffolding around the front of the ship, and a few areas quarantined off.

“That scaffolding was put up shortly after they docked they ship,” Officer Munroe called out from the pier, “The Professor and his crew were doing some paint analysis on the figurehead before it was stolen. She was pretty beat up and they planned on matching the original colors to restore her.”

“So the thief was able to work here without anyone seeing them,” Frank thought out loud, to which Munroe nodded.

“Yep. We found a few tools they left behind. And if I had to guess,” Munroe pointed to a section of dock below that led to the water, “Spiderman snatched her, jumped down, hopped in their boat, and got away.”

“And I’m guessing there’s no surveillance out in the water?” Frank asked knowing the answer already.

“Fraid not. At three in the morning, there's no chance of being seen,” Munroe glanced at the crowds heading toward the aquarium.

“My brother and I think this was a two-person job,” Frank called out, “Our thief probably left to meet their handler. How far do you think they’d be able to get in an outboard?”

“Not far,” Munroe pointed out to the open water, “Current gets strong about a half-mile out, and they could only go so many miles in an outboard. If it was a two-person job, they either had another boat waiting for them in the harbor or docked at a property closeby.” Frank looked out to the harbor. There were at least fifty sailboats, yachts, and other vessels docked in the port, not to mention the hundreds of properties that lined the coast and along the Charles River inland.

“Thank you, sir,” Frank nodded to Munroe, who continued to walk around the area watching the crowds. Frank turned to look at where the figurehead was, and removing it actually wasn’t as difficult as he imagined. The wood was old and soft, and from the shadow Frank could tell it was only mounted in two places: the back of her head and her feet. She was only about five feet tall, and probably weighed a hundred pounds or so. Frank took a closer look though and noticed that there were a series of pegs and rods coming out that weren’t designed to hold the figurehead in its place. It was almost mechanical; the armoire and desk.

“That’s not good,” Frank whispered to himself. He climbed out of the scaffolding to join with Joe and Peri, who just finished documenting the journal. Peri took the book and gently placed it in an evidence bag.

“I really should get this into the crime lab right away. I’ll let the detectives know,” she took out her phone to call her superiors, and Joe studied Frank’s worried look.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“We may have a serious problem,” Frank said quietly, “I think something was concealed in the figurehead, and the Captain left directions on how to find it in his journal.” Joe’s mouth hung open as he pieced it together.

“Only, he couldn’t figure it out,” Joe’s eyes grew wider, “And the mastermind probably said ‘Screw it’ and told him to just bring the whole thing to him.”

“If they were desperate enough,” Frank crossed his arms, “They could have smashed her to bits.”

“Or if we’re lucky,” Joe offered, “And the mastermind isn’t stupid, they took it somewhere safe to examine her and find whatever it is they were looking for.”

“Did the journal say anything or hint at what the Captain hid?” Frank asked Joe.

“Yeah, actually,” Joe took out his phone and flipped through the photos to find the right one, “Here we go: ‘The Judge asked me to hide the KEY for Abigail on this ship. He said that he hopes one day, she will understand and consider the BOOK his ultimate atonement. He hopes that someday, God’s light will shine on him and grant him forgiveness.’”

Frank and Joe leaned back to think the message through.

  
“The thief was looking for a key… to a  _ book _ ?” Frank asked.


End file.
